No Sale, No Sin, All Lies
by Sushi Chi
Summary: When Dean gets a broken arm, some people start asking questions. Preseries. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I'd love to own them. And the car. Dean and car. And Sam. But I don't. Which makes me sad.  
A/N: Okay, this just popped into my head and I had no idea where it was going, but I wrote it anyway. Do enjoy.  
At the moment of my writing this, I have seen the whole first season and only the first four episodes of the second season in just a couple days. A couple days ago.  
Also, my first Supernatural fic, so please be nice if I destroy the characters.**

"-previous breaks." The doctor said, glancing at the younger brother who had brought the older on in. The older one, of course kept saying he was fine. Kept making sure the younger one was fine. That the younger wasn't hurt either. The father was. . . No where to be seen. The doctor has realized that the older brother will not betray the father. So, he had his hopes on the younger one.

He bent down to the preteen and repeated what he had been saying, "It took a while to find the break in his arm because the x-ray was showing all of his previous breaks." He blinked, watching the younger one's expression. It didn't change much, just a nod, "How did he get this break?"

The younger one's eyes darted to the door, and then to the room where the older one was, "Dean fell." He said quietly.

The doctor sighed, the younger one was covering. Dammit. He needed to call social services. Dean didn't fall. It wasn't the sort of break that happens after you fall. "Are you sure he fell?" A nod with eyes downcast. The child was protecting someone. The father of course. The younger had made sure Dean came in, and Dean claimed he fell down, then shot a glance at the younger. Obviously stating that was their story.

"Sammy?" Dean called out, walking towards the door with his arm held to his stomach. "You sure you're alright?" Always the protective one. Probably made sure Sam never got hurt by the father. Always trying to keep Sam safe from daddy dearest. Probably threw himself in the way if father was going to hurt young Sam.

The doctor watched as Sam looked up at Dean and nodded, "Yeah, Dean. I'm fine." Dean sighed, not wanting to be in the hospital. It was dangerous, the doctor knew that if the father ever found out, it would probably be worse for the two boys.

The doctor turned towards Dean, "A nurse will be here soon to take you so you can get your cast."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He was guarded up. The doctor knew the signs of abuse. He knew what he had to do. He told Sam to go and join his brother so the doctor could call child services. When he was done with that he had to stall the boys long enough so that they wouldn't go back to the father. So that they wouldn't get hurt again by him. So that the services could take care of them.

The doctor always hated to find out that some parent was hurting their child. He never understood how it could happen. He had kids of his own and he would never. Never ever. Touch them. He didn't know how the father could hurt Dean and Sam. The doctor had been watching the two, while he stalled so that the services person could come and asses the family. Dean was a handsome young man and it was apparent that Sam was going to be the same way. It was obvious that they cared about each other. Siblings in abuse cases usually did. They protected each other. Watched over each other. They were also very guarded, the only thing they'd say is that Dean fell.

The doctor nodded at the door as the services person came in. He walked up to greet him, "Hello. I'm Dr. Leo Massy." He held out his hand for the services person.

"Paul. Paul Murphy." He gave a short nod, "You said you had two brothers who you think are being abused?"

Massy nodded, and tilted his head towards Dean and Sam, "The older one, Dean, came in with a broken arm. Sam, that's the younger one, had made sure Dean came in. Dean has had previous breaks before. Not to mention more than a fare share of scars." At this Murphy nodded, "And then Dean kept making sure that Sam was alright. Making sure Sam wasn't hurt either."

"And their father?" Murphy asked, looking around.

"Nowhere to be found." Massy's voice was dark. Angry.

The two walked up to the brothers, "Hello. I'm Paul Murphy." He sat down next to them.

"Are you a doctor too?" Sam asked.

"Hush, Sammy." Dean said. He knew. This wasn't the first time a services person came to see him. They always thought he was abused. Even though he had never been hit by their father. He sighed, "I fell." He stressed the point.

"I'm sure you did." Murphy said slowly, "Someone push you?"

"No." Dean's tone was very guarded.

"Where is your dad?"

Dean ran his good hand over his face, "He is not here. No, he is not coming. He is at work. Yes you can call him at work. Yes, dad is the only adult at home. No, they are not divorced. Yes, she is dead. Yes, I know you're sorry to hear that. No, he has never his either me or Sammy," at the mention of his name Sam glanced at Dean, "I fell. Yes, we are taken care of. Yes, we get enough food and clothing and shelter. Yes, I'm sure my father has never hit either of us. Yes, I fell. Yes, that is the story I am sticking too. And thank you too, been a nice conversation." He finished sarcastically.

Murphy's mouth was open for a second, "Uh. What was that?"

Dean glared, "That was the answers to all of the questions you were going ask. Did I forget a question?" He raised an eyebrow.

Murphy sighed. They only way he was ever going to get proof that the father was hitting the two boys is if one of them said so. And that was a very hard thing to do. "Dean, mind if I talk to Sammy alone?"

"It's Sam." The younger one said, eyeing Murphy.

"Yes. I do mind. We are leaving now." Dean got up and gathered Sam with his eyes. As they started out the door, Murphy could hear Dean say, "I told you I didn't need to go to the hospital."

A few days later, Murphy got a call. He had to go out to the school. One of the teachers was worried. A boy in her class kept falling asleep. He would constantly show up with bruises. Recently with a cast. And the last straw she had was the new deep gash on his forehead that appeared to had been stitched up at home.

Murphy was not surprised to walk into the room and find Dean. "Hello again, Dean." He said, opening the folder he had started on the young teen.

"Hello, Paul." Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"How's Sam doing?" Murphy that that if he started with the brother he might be able to get Dean to talk. It was apparent that Dean would do anything to protect Sam, and if Sam had gotten hurt by the father, Dean would be very mad.

"He fine. Smart. Not hurt and well taken care of. You can ask his teacher." Dean's body language was guarded.

Murphy nodded. He had spoken to Sam's teacher. The only thing she would say is that if someone started picking on the younger brother, Dean would then be there to protect Sam. Said Sam was bright, stayed awake, did his homework, never had any more injuries than any other students.

So, maybe it was only Dean getting the punishment? "Dean," Murphy started, "You know that if do not speak up about your father, he may one day hurt Sam instead of you."

Murphy was scared. After that statement rays of malice seemed to dip off Dean in waves. He suddenly felt he was in danger, even though Dean hadn't moved a muscle. It was scary as hell. He was very worried about Dean. If Dean had this much rage at such and early age, they certainly had a future criminal in their grasp.

"How many time do I have to fucking say it? My father has never laid a finger on me or Sammy." His voice was quiet and very eerie.

Murphy suppressed a shiver, "Then explain all the scars. The broken arm. That gash on your head that was stitched at home. Or the bags under your eyes from not enough sleep."

"What can I say, I'm a clumsy insomniac." Ooh. He knew that Murphy didn't believe him. And it wasn't true. Murphy had seen how Dean moved. Dean was very graceful. No way he could have fallen that many times.

Of course the scars, broken arm, and gash had been from demons and the like. From training to fight them, from hunting and fighting them. And the not sleeping? Well, he took care of Sam. And his father. And he had school. A job. Side jobs. He barely had time to sleep.

Dean glanced at the folder, "How goes my case? Got evidence yet?" He paused, "Of course not. Because there is none."

Just then, the door opened and Sam came in. Right away, the violence air around Dean vanished, "Sammy?"

Sam was pale, "Dean. There is a guy in our room with a gun next to my teacher's head."

Murphy was surprised, "Did he let you out of the room?"

Sam threw a questioning look at him, "No. I snuck out." He spoke as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

Dean nodded, smirk on his face, "Nice. Didn't see you then?" Sam shook his head, "Good. Know why he is after you're teacher?"

"Said something about revenge. Can't live without her. Gave too many reasons for it to be about her. But Dean. . . His eyes were black." Sam voice low and quiet, eyes wider at the last part.

Murphy watched as Dean's body tensed up and stood up, "Alright. Sammy, call dad. I'm gonna get the gun away from him."

"No. You are not!" Murphy stood up angrily, "Are you stupid, kid? The guy will shoot you! And Sam, don't call you're dad. Call the cops."

Dean glanced lazily at the services guy, "One: the guy won't shoot me. Two: I've gotta help because they need it. What else am I supposed to do?"

Murphy was shocked. Just a minute ago, it seemed as if Dean was going to be the next serial killer, and now. . . Well, now it seemed as if Dean was going to be the next guy who caught serial killers. "Dean, the guy will shoot you!" He got in the doorway.

"Move aside." Dean said, glancing up, "I do not want to hurt you. I know you're just doing your job and everything. But let me do mine."

"Can I come and help?" Sam piped up.

"No, Sammy. Just call dad. And help keep Paul here safe." Dean said with a smile towards his brother.

"Okay." Sam nodded and took Murhpy's hand. "Come with me."

Murphy was overrun with the urge to stop Dean, and yet, he felt as if he could trust the kid and Sam. Dean knew that people tended to trust Sam. That's why he sent Sam on Murphy. "Dean," the older man said, "I'm coming with you."

Dean sighed, "Fine. But you and Sammy are staying outside the room." And with that he was suddenly on the other side of the door. Murphy had no idea how the kid did that. He and Sam followed Dean who was putting off and air of confidence.

"Don't worry," Sam started, talking to Murphy, "Dean'll save us. He always does." And once again, Murphy got the feeling that Dean saved Sam from their father.

When they got near the door, Dean turned around with his finger over his lips, telling them to be quiet, "Sam, you should really call dad. I can get the guy down, but I need dad."

Sam nodded and asked Murphy for his phone. Sam dialed a number, "Hey dad." Sam started, "There is a guy in my room with a gun. He's got black eyes, sir. . .Dean wants to go in and get started. . . No, sir. Okay. Yes, sir." And with that he hung up the phone and handed it back. Sam turned towards his big brother, "Dad'll be here soon with the stuff. Says to wait a minute then go on in and take him down. He'll finish up."

Dean nodded, and glanced at his watch. He silently moved closer to the door, and right before he went in, he glanced in the window. Turning towards Murphy and Sam, Dean gave Sam some hand signals that Murphy noted where military of some sort.

Murphy was still not comfortable with letting the kid go in. But he did not know what to do. It never reoccurred to him that he should call the cops, but for some reason he got the feeling that Dean could do the job.

Dean glanced at his watch one more time and then quickly opened the door and snuck in.

Right then, Murphy realized what he had let Dean do. He had let Dean go into a room with an armed man. He quickly left Sam's side and ran up to the door, throwing it open. He would distract the man with the gun. Even if it meant that he'd get shot. It'd be better than if Dean did.

To Murphy's surprise, Dean had the gun in his hands and the man with the black eyes chuckled.

"Cute. Daddy's not here? Here I thought Daddy would come and save baby boy." He glanced around the room, "Where did Sam go?!"

Dean held the gun as he was taught, "Sam left. Thought you'd see that. Dumber than you look." Murphy didn't miss the sneer in Dean or how professional he looked with a gun, as if he had been taught by the military, even though on his other arm was a cast, "And you're not big enough to get dad. You're barely worth my time."

Right then a different man came up behind Murphy, scaring the shit out of him. He could tell it was the father.

"Dean." A quiet and commanding voice.

"Yes, sir?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the man with black eyes.

"I've got him." And indeed the father did. He had a gun out pointed at the man. Dean shrugged and lowered his gun, "Get everyone out of here." The father ordered.

Dean nodded, "Yes, sir," and gathered everyone up with his eyes. Amazingly everyone followed as he lead them out into the hallway. Dean had to work harder to get Murphy out of the room, having to push him out. He then shut the door behind him.

All the students and the teacher ran out of the hallway and away from the room, leaving Dean, Sam and Murphy standing there.

Murphy watched as Dean put the gun away, as if he always kept one on him. He could hear something going on in the room behind the door, but he couldn't hear what was happening clearly.

"You alright Dean?" Sam asked, eyeing his brother.

"Yeah Sam. I'm good." Dean smiled.

"Good." Sam nodded.

The door opened and out came the father with the man who's eyes were no longer black.

"I-I-I just don't know what happened." The man said, "I would never. . ."

The father nodded, "I know. It's alright. It's over now."

The man turned to Dean, "Thank you for stopping me."

"No problem." Dean shrugged, as if this were a normal occurrence.

"You will be arrested." The father told the man, "I'm sorry about that." He lead the man outside to where the cops now where, taking everyone's statement.

The father came back to join Dean, Sam, and Murphy. He nodded, "John Winchester."

"Paul Murphy." He watched as John's eyes went dark and then light again.

"Ah yes. My boys have told me about you." John patted Sam on the shoulder, "I'm glad you're worried about them. But you really don't have to."

Murphy couldn't believe it. Not worry about them? After Dean held a guy up at gunpoint?

"Dean." John said, not taking his eyes off Murphy.

Dean's stance was back straight, feet apart, shoulder's back, and eyes not meeting his fathers. As if he were a soldier. "Yes, sir?"

"Good job." The eldest of the family then glanced at the youngest, "You did a good job too, Sam."

"Thank you, sir." They both said at once.

"Did you see that, dad?" Sam asked, looking up at his father, "Dean saved my class."

John smiled and bent down to his son's level, "Yes he did. And you did too. You're mother would be proud."

At this both the boys seemed to beam. Though Dean still had stuff on his mind. He quickly turned on Murphy, "I hope you've got all the answers to you're questions." His voice was not light, but challenging.

"Dean." John scolded roughly.

And Murphy was glad to see that Dean didn't flinch to the tone. At least there was some evidence that John wasn't hitting his boy.

"Can we go home?" Sam asked.

John sighed, "Yes. Let's go."

The three turned and started down the hallway, leaving Murphy standing there in his thoughts. He had no idea how the take the family. Dean acted like a soldier and protector and a killer in the making. It seemed very likely still the Dean would turn to a dark life, but yet Murphy had hope. That hope seemed to reside in Sam. Sam seemed to keep Dean grounded, seemed as if Dean would do anything for his brother. And John? He wasn't sure what to make of the man. He went into a room with a guy who had a gun and talked him out of whatever was going on.

Right before he turned to leave, he heard the voices from the family.

"Can I drive?" a young voice.

"You're too young." Older voice, "Can I drive the Impala?"

A dry chuckle from an even older voice, "Not with you're broken arm, you can't."

**End.**

**A/N: Oh, and thinking of doing another story with Murphy in it. . .  
Please review. (I have horribly low self-esteem) If no one reviews I may not do the continuation. (And yes, that is a threat.)  
And if someone would like to be a beta for my Supernatural stories, I'd appreciate it.**


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